


The Same Path

by Ibrithir



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen, Kinda, bad end miguel, price of fame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibrithir/pseuds/Ibrithir
Summary: In this AU, a young Miguel is stopped from running away that fateful Dia de Los Muertos when his attic is raided and his guitar is smashed. He never gets to the crypt, never gets cursed, never goes to the Land of the Dead, never learns the truth, and never gets over the hurt of his family shutting him down.At sixteen, after three long, tense, silent years, he decides he's had enough. He packs a suitcase, slides out the window, and takes off, ready to finally seize his moment.And so, determined to live up to the legacy he thinks is his, (and stick it to the family he feels kept him down) a young man calling himself Miguel Cruz swiftly rises to the center stage of international stardom.Charismatic, brilliant, and determined to ride this merry-go-round of fame and fortune for all that it's worth, Miguel doesn't give himself time to think about the family he left behind or the hollow feeling that seems to be steadily trying to creep into his perfect lifeAt least, not until a certain familiar looking young girl manages to make it past his security team...





	1. Chapter 1

_ 2030, Capula, Mexico_

“Look, I appreciate the offer_ hermano_, but there is no way I can miss this party.” Miguel said into his phone as he looked over the array of designer shirts he’d brought with him. He knew he shouldn’t have packed so light for this tour, how was he supposed to find one that he hadn’t already been seen in?

“Come on _guey_!” Marco Fuentes’ voice said, his tone tinged with barely concealed exasperation. "You don’t even like the people throwing it, you know you’d have a better time hanging out with me and Jodi. She’s making those _aeblskiver_-things that you like so much.“

Miguel threw several shirts aside before switching Marco to speaker and pulling up a new tab. Maybe he could rush order something new before the party started.

"I can’t man, I already posted that I’d come. Besides, it’s not going to be much of a party if I don’t show up is it?”

“If you’re able to get your big head through the door that is.”

“Haha.” Miguel said, rolling his eyes as he swiped through pictures. “Look, next time for sure, ok? I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time, and the time before that. What is this, your _fifth_all night party in the last month?” Marco said, his voice echoing out into the hotel room.

“Wow, you hit thirty and suddenly you turn into my dad?” Miguel shot back hotly, switching the screen back to the call, resisting the urge to simply hangup. “ I’m twenty five alright? I think I can handle it.”

“Can you?”

Marco’s tone was casual, but the question made Miguel’s ears go hot, and he had to take a moment before he replied.

“Look, what happened with Lela was…dumb. I was dumb, Ok? Is that what you want me to say?”

“No it’s not that.” 

There was a pause before Marco went on, and Miguel knew him well enough to know that the other man was practicing what he was going to say next before he went ahead.

“Look Miguel, you know that in all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never tried to tell you what to do–”

“So why break a great record now?” Miguel cut in, knowing it was childish but wanting to do it anyway.

“Because I’m starting to worry about you you_ tonto_!”

The genuine concern under the anger in Marco’s voice actually shook Miguel for a moment. It had been a long time since he’d had someone call him out like that, like they cared about him and not just his image. It was…uncomfortable.

“I’ve always said that underneath all that show is a good guy, but lately…”

“_What_?” Miguel hissed, his grip tightening on the phone as his anger began to rise once more. What exactly was Marco’s problem? Why couldn’t he just let Miguel live his own life without trying to make him feel guilty about it? It was almost as bad as being back with his–

“I’m worried if that good guy is going to last much longer in the world you’ve put him in.”

Irritation flared up inside Miguel. What exactly was he supposed to say to that?

“I–” He began, looking around his apartment as he tried to come up with something to defend himself. His eyes drifted to the desk strewn with sheet paper, to the _ofrenda_ dedicated solely to his great great grandfather, to the little girl crawling out of an air vent–

_The little girl crawling out of an air vent??_

“_IIII_’m going to have to call you back Marco.” Miguel finished quickly, cutting the call off on Marco’s protest.

Miguel looked over the girl as she struggled out of the vent shaft, making sure to stay in the alcove he’d ducked into when he’d first noticed her. He had a good view of the girl, but she wouldn’t be able to see him from where she was. She couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve, definitely one of the youngest fans he’d ever had to have thrown out.

In a way though, he was grateful for the distraction, that conversation had been way too much of a downer. He quickly slipped into his stage persona as he stepped out, sidling up to the girl to lean casually against the wall and say with a smile:

“ Do your parents know where you are?”

The girl’s head shot up with a gasp, almost smacking Miguel in the face with her long braid. The surprise sent her off balance, tumbling out onto the carpet. But she barely seemed to notice as she shot to her feet, her eyes wide with an excitement that seemed to shine out from her.

“_Miguel_!” She squealed with delight, before throwing her arms around Miguel before he could defend himself.

“Its you it’s you it’s _you_!” She cried, jumping up and down and squeezing him even tighter, he wasn’t aware that little girl’s could be this strong.

“I did it! Chole said I wouldn’t be able to get in but _I did it_ and you’re here and I found you!” 

“Yes you did.” Miguel gasped, prying the girl’s surprisingly strong arms off of him and taking a step back to stay out of range in case she tried tackling him again. She didn’t seem to mind however, if anything she smiled even wider, it was starting to freak him out just a little. 

“And, you are?” He asked cautiously, eyes darting sideways to try and see where his phone might have landed. Not that his faith in his security was particularly high at the moment. If a little girl like this could –

“It’s me, Socorro!”

Miguel froze. Then he finally took a good long look at the little girl bouncing excitedly before him. Dark, wide eyes, the same shade as his own, a smile that dimpled just where his did. A tattered red hoodie was wrapped around her waist, clashing horribly with her pink top. And he would have known the design of the shoes she wore anywhere.

Socorro, tiny little burbling Socorro, who hadn’t been more than a baby when he’d left.

His sister.

For a moment, the two siblings simply stared at each other, Socorro with eager excitement, Miguel in confusion and just a little bit of…well, he wouldn’t say fear. More, apprehension. If Socorro was here, did that mean his parents were also?

“How did you–”

But his question was cut off by a loud creaking sound, like something being forcefully opened behind him. Miguel spun quickly around, and felt something between shock and annoyance flare up at what he saw.

A woman about his age –the kind Miguel might have thought kind of attractive is she hadn’t been dressed in khaki and looking so murderous– was climbing in through his now open window.

Miguel made a mental note to fire his security team.

“What was _that_?!” The woman spat, striding right past Miguel to grab a now slightly less eager looking Socorro by the shoulders. “What sort of maniac kid are you? Who actually goes crawling through vents like that?!”

“Chole I found him!” Socorro said quickly, pointing back at Miguel, who took a step back as the woman–Chole’s–angry gaze turned on him.

“ This is the guy?” She asked, looking Miguel up and down, “This is the guy you sidetracked me all the way here for?” She spoke in a way that showed she clearly didn’t think Miguel worth the fuss. Miguel decided that he didn’t think too much of her either.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” He asked acidly, making a point to eye her dusty uniform and messy ponytail as disdainfully as he could.

“I’m the person who kept your sister from being run over when she tried to hitchhike from Santa Cecilia to here on her own.” Chole said hotly, “She_ insisted_that she had to see you, no matter how much I tried to talk her out of it.”

“Miguel this is Soledad Santiago!” Socorro said brightly, apparently oblivious to the tension between the two adults.

“You remember her, right? She used to live around the corner but now she works at _la Biosphera _and–”

Miguel cut his sister off as smoothly as he could, determined to get the conversation back on track. "Ok I don’t need her full biography, let’s just start with _you_, alright? Why are you here?“

Socorro obviously didn’t need any more prompting, and Miguel was soon feeling an odd, muted sympathy for the mariachi he’d once cornered in the plaza. _Cielos_ had he talked this much at that age?

”–And then I saw your poster and you looked so tired and kinda sad, and when I found your hoodie in the attic I _knew_ that I had to come find you. So I packed up my stuff and I started walking but I missed the bus but then Chole found me, and she said, “_Hey Rivera what are you trying to do, get kidnapped_?”

Here Miguel spared a glance over at Chole, who, evidently used to Socorro’s monologues, had slouched down onto one of Miguel’s expensive artistic chairs he’d insisted on bringing with him, and was eyeing it with a highly critical glare.

But then, her face had basically been set at that expression since she’d come in the window. It reminded Miguel of someone actually, but he couldn’t think of who.

“And she wanted to take me back but then I talked her into it and she gave me a ride here and her truck is _super old_ –”

Here Chole turned her glare onto Socorro, but the little girl went on without noticing.

“– And they weren’t going to let us in but then I climbed into the vents outside even though Chole didn’t think I could fit, but I _did_–”

This last bit was said with such a point of pride, that Miguel felt himself smiling just a little. The kid definitely had spirit, he’d give her that.

“And I found you and now you can come_ home_ and–”

Miguel’s smile fell instantly.

“_Woah_.” He said quickly, catching Socorro by the shoulders, the action breaking her concentration monetarily, and Miguel seized his chance.

“Let’s… back up just a moment.” He said, as calmly as he could, even though he could feel his heart starting to race as old memories threatened to come up from the depths to which he’d pushed them.

"As… _flattered_ as I am that you’d risk breaking and entering at such a young age to try and find me,“ Miguel said with his best stage smile, trying to keep his voice friendly and even, this was his little sister after all,

” What exactly makes you think I’d go home with you?“

The question seemed to take Socorro by surprise, and she stared up at him like he’d just asked if the earth really went around the sun.

"Well…you’re my _brother_.” She said finally, in a way that showed she wasn’t sure what other reason he could need.

“_And_?” Miguel prompted, letting just a little of his annoyance creep into his voice now. Could the kid really be that naive?

“And…and I just thought, well, _Dia de Los Muertos _is about family and–and we’re _your_ family and I thought that if you came back this year that–”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there.” Miguel said, stepping away from his sister and running his hand over his face with a sigh. 

“Look, Socorro. It’s…it’s good to see you, it really is.”

And Miguel meant it, mostly. She couldn’t have picked a worse time or holiday to show up on, but he supposed he really couldn’t blame her for that, she obviously had a very thick pair of rose colored glasses on to think that he’d come back for the sake of the family. He’d sooner have sold his custom made guitar. No, better that he break it to her now, then have her continue to hope for the impossible.

“I’m glad that we got to talk, you’re obviously a cool little kid and it’s touching that you care so much… But I am not going back to Santa Cecilia, alright? _Ever_.”

Socorro looked at him with the same expressions that Manny and Benny had when he’d told them that Santa wasn’t real.

“But–” She began, her voice wavering, but Miguel cut her off once more, eyes glancing at his watch.

“Look, even if I wanted to go back, and I _don’t_, I couldn’t alright? I’ve got a party happening in like, an hour.”

He stepped back awkwardly from the pair, unsure of what else to say. He really didn’t want to call security on his own sister, but if she didn’t leave on her own.

“Honestly, you’d…you’d probably better go, I need to get ready.”

“But…” Socorro tried again, and there was a sheen of tears in her eyes.

“Kid, I told you he wasn’t going to go for it.” Chole said quickly, in a voice much softer then she’d used before, if still a little forceful.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your family.”

“_He’s_ my family!” Socorro cried, moving away from Chole and trapping hold of Miguel’s sleeve. "You need to be with _us_! With me and Mama and Papa and _Abuelita_ and–“

Miguel pulled his arm away from Socorro with enough force that it almost sent her toppling, a spike of red hot anger shooting through him at the mention of his grandmother. 

"Hey, as far as I’m concerned that woman is _not_ my family!” He hissed, glaring down at Socorro, all traces of good humor sliding away as the memories came back to him.

“She never listened to me, she never supported me, none of them did!”

He backed away from his sister, who was trembling now, Chole’s hands on her shoulders. The woman was eyeing him warily, as if trying to gauge if he was about to attack or not, but Miguel was too worked up to care.

In his mind’s eye, he was watching his guitar, the one he’d worked so hard on, the one he’d built himself piece by scavenged piece, being smashed over and over again as his family watched, doing nothing.

“"I don’t need to be with any of them,I don’t want to be with any of them! And if you think for one second that after all I went through I’d ever go back, well you’re even crazier than I thought.”

He turned his back on Socorro, whipping out his phone, ready to call in the guards and have both Socorro and the Santiago woman tossed out like the trespassers they were. His eyes fell once more on the_ ofrenda_ he’d put up for Ernesto de la Cruz, and he jerked a thumb in it’s direction, saying with as much spite as he could manage:

“As far as I can see,_ he’s_ the only family I need.”

“But De la Cruz_ isn’_t our family! He’s not our great great grandpa!”

Miguel froze where he stood, his hand hovering above the button. He took a long, slow breath, before turning back to face Socorro.

“_What_?”

The little girl took another step back, gulping at the menace in his voice, but to Miguel’s surprise, she went on.

“When–when I was going through the attic, when I found your hoodie, I found all these letters.”

With shaking hands, she pulled a bundle of ancient looking envelopes out of a deep pocket in her jeans.

“Mama Coco’s name was on them,” She said slowly, holding the letters to her chest.

"I read them, they’re from her papa, he wrote them while he was traveling, they’ve got all of De la Cruz’s songs in them–“

"Well there you go–” Miguel said quickly, eager to get past this absurd turn and throw them both out, but Socorro barreled on, a desperate note coming into her voice.

“But De la Cruz didn’t write them!” She said, looking between Miguel and Chole, as if trying to convince them both. “Her papa talks about De la Cruz in the letters but it’s not him.”

She began shuffling rapidly through the bundle, as if searching for something specific.

“Look, there’s even a pictu–”

“_**SHUT UP**_!”

The words cracked across the room like gunshot, sending both girls reeling back.

Chole stared at him with surprise that quickly became withering disdain, and Soccorro looked as if he’d slapped her across the face. But Miguel didn’t care, the only thing on his mind just then was one all consuming thought.

It wasn’t true, it _couldn’t_ be true.

Miguel looked over at the _ofrenda_ he’d had set up for his great great grandfather, the man who’d inspired him, who’d given him the courage to break free and finally live out his dreams. Who’s name he’d built his career and whole life around…

All he’d worked for the past nine years, it just couldn’t be a lie. If it was–if it was…

In less time than it took to think it, Miguel tore the bundle of letters out of Soccorro’s hands, ignoring her cry of alarm as he elbowed her aside.

“Just shut up and–and get out!” He hissed, twisting the fragile, flaking sheets of paper as if trying to strangle them into silence.

If there were no papers, then there was no “proof”, and then nothing would–

Three things slammed into Miguel at once.

The first was Socorro, scrambling desperately at his hands to try and save the now crumbling letters.

The second was Chole, who’d grabbed hold of his arm looking like she meant to break it.

And the third was a tremendous gust of wind, which sent the marigold petals from the _ofrenda _swirling about the room, mingling with the scraps of paper set loose by Socorro and Chole’s combined attack.

And it didn’t stop. The wind blew faster and harder, the papers and petals, sparkling oddly in the flickering light of the candles, whirled about the three of them, completely obscuring the room from sight. And all the while the wind roared like the cry of something large and lost and pained.

And then the wind was gone, just as quickly as it came. The petals and papers settled to the floor…only it wasn’t the floor of the hotel. It was a floor completely covered, no, completely made of brightly colored, practically glowing _cempasuchil_ petals.

They _were _glowing, as a matter of fact.

Miguel’s eyes lifted slowly from the fluorescent floor, to stare at the sight unfolding before him.

They were on a bridge, an enormous glowing flower petal bridge, leading to an even more enormous glowing city. And all around them in the bridge, pointing and staring and acting very much not dead– where hundreds of walking, talking _skeletons_.

Miguel had felt true panic only a handful of times in his life. The last time had been two years ago, the one time that he had been stupid enough to try some questionable stuff being passed around at an equally questionable party. 

This, this was ten times worse. He had no idea how to respond to this. Miguel felt his breath catching in his throat, and his hands were shaking, knuckles white as the bones of the skeletons surrounding them. This was too close, too bright, too _real_. And he had no idea why any of it was happening.

A hand brushed against Miguel’s arm, and he barely managed to bite down a scream.

But it was only Socorro, who, leaning close to him, wide eyed and trembling, whispered:

“I, um, I don’t think you’re going to make it to your party tonight…”


	2. Chapter 2

_ Marigold Grand Central Station, The Land of the Dead _

As _ Dia de los Muertos _ went, Miguel had experienced worse things than being detained in a dingy office by a bad tempered police officer, even if that officer _ was _ a talking skeleton. That didn't mean that Miguel was alright with the current state of affairs though, not one bit. 

"I hope each of you realize how incredibly _ stupid _ it was to try and run from officers of the law like that, especially on such a dangerous, high traffic area as-- _ are you paying attention?! _"

Miguel winced slightly as the skeletal officer's sharp voice broke through the whirl of his thoughts. 

"Sorry officer," He said quickly, raising his head from his hands and sitting up straighter in the rickety chair he'd been thrust into moments earlier.

_"I'm just trying not to have a total _ ** _mental breakdown_ ** _ over this whole being stuck in the Land of the Dead thing." _

That was what Miguel _ wanted _ to say anyway, but he managed to bite down the sarcasm, knowing that it wouldn't help. The officer gave a stiff nod and went on with his lecture. 

Actually, that was the worst thing about this whole nightmarish situation. It _ kept going on _ . Every other minute Miguel would pinch himself and think, "Now, now I'll wake up" and it _ just didn't happen _. 

Not that anyone seemed to care about his potential mental breakdown. Chole seemed to have decided to ignore everyone and everything, no matter how bizarre, and was slouching in her chair with an attitude of finding it all a huge inconvenience.

Socorro, on the other hand, seemed almost excited by their situation. She'd apparently gotten over her own fear once she'd determined the skeletons were only going to arrest them, not eat them. She kept sneaking wide eyed looks over her shoulder to stare at the skeletons peeking in the window of the office door, all of whom looked just as interested in her.

The officer however, seemingly oblivious to the crowd growing outside his door, went on droning their list of offences.

"Resisting detainment, disturbing the peace, _decapitating _ a crossing guard--" 

"Chole said she was sorry!" Socorro said quickly, looking apologetically at the scowling officer. 

Miguel bit back a scoff, Chole had done no such thing. Luckily the other skeletal police been able to get the man's head reattached, or it might have gone worse for all three of them. Of course, things weren't looking too good as they were.

"If you were deceased, I'd have you _ all _ locked up for the night under a charge of disorderly conduct and _ worse _." The officer huffed threateningly, glaring hotly at them over his clipboard. Then he seemed to deflate just a bit, sitting down at his desk with a deep sigh.

"But, as it is, we really don't have a precedent for this sort of thing."

"So...we're free to leave then?" Miguel said carefully, still not quite believing that he was trying to negotiate with a _ skeleton _.

"Absolutely not!" The officer barked quickly, regaining some of his heat. "We have no idea how this happened, or how to rectify it! Until we do, all of you will remain in police custody, AND THE REST OF YOU WILL GET BACK TO WORK!"

This last remark sent all of the bony faces pressed against the window scattering. The officer rolled his eyes in their sockets and pinched what once served as the bridge of his nose.

"I knew it was too good to last," he muttered under his breath, "Twelve years of perfectly peaceful _ Dia de de Los Muertos _ , no car crashes or cross dressing or _ catapults _ . And now _ this _." And he ran a hand over his face, his knuckles clattering as they bounced over the ridges.

Miguel suppressed a shudder, even as he felt like copying the gesture himself. He had no idea what to do or how to get out of this. Normally if he were in a tight spot he'd have called his agent or Marco, but somehow he got the feeling that even his extensive cell service wouldn't reach wherever he'd landed himself.

Or, where _ Socorro _ had landed him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that someway, somehow, _ she _ was responsible for all of this. After all, it wasn't until she's pulled out those stupid letters that anything weird had happened. Yes, this was definitely _ her _ fault, it had to be. 

Though, he supposed he couldn't quite rule out the Santiago woman. At any rate, she was the one who'd gotten Socorro to Miguel's apartment in the first place, and there was something about her that Miguel couldn't quite place. Something familiar...

He shook his head, he couldn't get distracted now, he had to figure out a way to get out of here. There had to be a way back, there _ had _ to be. They'd shown up on a bridge...bridges had two sides, and they where on one side now. If he could just get back to the bridge and get across...

"Look," Miguel began, leaning forward and pulling out his friendliest voice and smile, the kind his agent always told him to use in important interviews, "I think there's just been a big misunderstanding here. You probably didn't realize in all of the commotion, but I'm--"

"_ Miguel Rivera _!"

Every head in the room turned quickly towards the sound of the voice, though they had to look down to find the owner. A small, squat skeletal clerk came jangling into the room, a knowing smile on his face and a stack of papers in his hands, from which he was reading aloud. 

"Age 25. Last known Residence with an _ ofrenda _, Capula." 

The clerk flipped through several more papers, before reading on. "Socorro Rivera, age 12. Last known Residence with an _ ofrenda _, Santa Cecilia."

He flipped over one more paper, "Soledad Santiago, age 20, last known Residence with an _ ofrenda _…" His voice tapered out then, and he looked up at Chole uncomfortably, looking down hastily as she scowled back. 

"No residence with an _ofrenda_ has been noted for _ Senorita _ Santiago for the past four years…" He muttered quickly, shuffling his papers back into whatever order they'd been in before.

"What, you think I _ should _ have put one up?" Chole asked acidly, still glaring at the little skeleton, who seemed to shrink even more under her face. "Well, maybe I didn't see much point till now, if you're dead then you're _ dead _." 

There was a short moment of silence then, where Chole seemed to be trying to force the two skeleton in the room back into non-animation through sheer force of will. But then she shrugged, and turning to glare at the wall muttered, "Or maybe I'm just not ok with a bunch of dead judgy relatives butting into my life."

"Well, I'm afraid that you'll _ have _ to be ok with it." The clerk said tersely, handing the papers over to the officer to look over. "Because those _ 'dead judgy relatives _' are the only ones that can lift your curse."

"Curse?" Socorro asked, looking just a bit nervous again. "What do you mean? How is Chole cursed?"

"Oh it's not just her, you're _ all _ cursed." The clerk answered primly, "You all handled--or _ mishandled _ rather--something that belonged to the dead, on the day meant to _ honor _ the dead."

"I _ knew _ it was those stupid letters!" Miguel hissed under his breath, but the clerk didn't seem to hear him, and went on with his speech; he seemed to be enjoying his moment in the spotlight.

"You'll all need to gain a blessing from a family member to return to the Land of the Living before sunrise or--"

"What happens at sunrise?" Socorro cut in, before shrinking back apologetically under the annoyed glance of the clerk. 

"_ Or, _ you'll be stuck in the Land of the Dead _ permanently _." He said with dramatic finality. "Actually, it looks like the process has already begun." And he pointed down at Miguel's hands.

Miguel's eyes shot downwards, and then widened in horror. The tip of his pointer finger was as white as bone--no, it _ was _ bone. And the transformation was slowly but surely, _ spreading _. 

Miguel heard a gasp from Socorro, and something like a smothered gulp from Chole. Both of them hastily checked their own hands...

And then three of them were on their feet, rushing at the desk, demanding, shouting, _ pleading _. It took a moment for the officer and the clerk to calm them down enough to even be heard.

"We have already sent out notices to all of the family members we have on record for each of you!" The clerk assured them as the officer tried in vain to get them back in their seats.

"Several of them have already passed over the bridge, and could be back at any moment. It's just a matter of patience, that's all. You all just stay right here, and we'll make sure that you get your blessings in time."

"And this--this _ blessing _ thing, it doesn't take a lot of hassle? We don't have to go off and -- and make some sort of _ sacrifice _ at some ancient temple or something?" Miguel said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady even as his mind wanted him to scream about the insanity of all of this.

"No no, it's nothing like _ that _ ," the clerk said soothingly, joining the officer in ushering them back to their chairs. "All we need is a few _ cempasuchil _ petals. Your family member touches the petal, gives you their blessing, maybe adds a few conditions--"

"Conditions?" Chole asked, finally consenting to sit back down, but only because Socorro, looking very nervous again, had held out her hand and asked her to sit by her.

"Well, you know," The clerk said, suddenly sounding a little uncomfortable.

"_Conditions _, like, maybe your tatra Tia doesn't approve of the boy you've been seeing, so she says--"

"Don't see him anymore or you _ die _?" Chole said dryly. "Wow, that doesn't sound messed up at all." 

The clerk only shrugged, and said sheepishly, "I'm afraid that's just how it is. If the family member giving the blessing makes a condition, you have to agree to it or you don't go back." 

Miguel could see that Chole clearly wanted to keep arguing the point, but a glance over at a pale faced Socorro seemed to dampen her indignation. Instead she sighed, squeezed the little girl's hand and muttered, "Well, if the only other option is _ dying _ I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"About how long do you think it will take for the notices you sent out to reach our families?" Miguel asked the clerk quietly, hoping that he might get _ some _ sort of break tonight. 

"I shouldn't imagine it would take too long." The clerk said, wiping at his spectacles. "The nearest family members we have for all of you are at the Santa Cecilia gate, which is about an hour away from here, but we have plenty of time still."

_ Santa Cecilia _ . Miguel felt his stomach flop just at the mention of it. This was worse than he'd thought. With the way his luck was going tonight, it would probably be _ Mama Imelda herself, _ come down from the safety of her lofty perch atop the family ofrenda into horrifying reality, and he could just guess the type of _ 'conditions' _ she'd try placing on him. 

He had to get out of here, _ fast _ . But where could he _ go _ ? Why did it have to be Mama Imelda? Why couldn't they have found Papa _ Ernesto-- _

Wait. Why _ couldn't _ they find Papa Ernesto? He was buried in Santa Cecilia after all, even if he hadn't died there. Surely he had to visit the _ ofrenda _ set up at his actual grave, right?

"Um, you did say that you'd sent out notices to _ all _ of our family members you had on file?" Miguel asked quickly, eyeing the window in the door in case Mama Imelda's face suddenly reared up in it. "Did you send one to Ernesto de la Cruz?"

The clerk blinked at him, looking vaguely surprised, but nodded. "Well, yes. But I doubt if he'd be one of those to show up. He's got his annual Sunrise Spectacular show tonight to celebrate the end of _ Dia de Los Muertos _. He's likely much too busy to come." 

He smiled kindly as Miguel's face fell, and said quickly, "But don't worry, like I said, we've sent out notices to _ all _ of the family members in your files. You'll all be fine."

The clerk scooped up his papers then, and began shuffling out of the door, his work with them clearly done. But he paused at the doorway to turn back, and say with a slight laugh, "Now don't feel put out about not getting to meet De la Cruz, he'll still be around when you finally come back for good. Just look for that giant tower of his, you can't miss it!"

And then the clerk was gone, but his last words were all that Miguel's already desperate mind needed to start forming a plan. 

He looked over at the officer, who was keeping his eyes locked on Chole, probably still not too certain she wouldn't try to start throwing skulls around. Chole was talking quietly to Socorro, assuring the girl, in her own rough way, that things would be fine, they just had to sit tight and try not to die of boredom. 

As casually as he could, Miguel ambled towards the large window at the back of the office, the one that looked out onto the city below. He peered out, trying to get a glimpse of the tower the clerk had mentioned. And sure enough, there it was, glowing like a beacon meant just for him.

Then he looked down. There was a mess of iron fire-escapes, some old fashioned pipes that ran the length and breadth of the building, and a dark alleyway beneath, lined with a long row of old trash cans, many full to the brim with dimly seen debris. The one directly below looked like had been filled with old newspapers and old tequila bottles.

_ Perfect_, Miguel thought, fumbling through his jacket pockets. If he was lucky, this could work out _ spectacularly _.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure none of the others were looking at him. Satisfied, he carefully, _ carefully _ pushed the window opened just wide enough to push something through.

There was a three second pause as it fell, hit the mess of alcohol soaked trash. and then the alley _ light up _ below him like a fireworks show, bangs and all.

The officer shot up from his desk, and ran over to the window, pushing Miguel out of the way to get a look. He said a word that made Chole hastily cover Socorro's ears. Then he bolted towards the door, grumbling something about holiday troublemakers. He paused just long enough to bark at them all to "_ STAY PU _T" --and then he too was gone. 

"Well, I knew keeping a lighter on hand was useful for more than Instagram effects." Miguel said with a sly grin once he was sure the police skeleton was out of earshot. Then turning back to the window, he quickly began pushing it further. He wasn't sure how long it would take for the officer or anyone else to get down there, but he didn't want to waste a second more than he had to.

"And just where are _ you _ going?" Chole asked sharply, coming towards him with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"_I'm _ going to get a blessing from _ De la Cruz _." He said curtly, finally succeeding in opening the window. He had one leg over the ledge and onto the fire escape when Socorro grabbed onto him.

"_No Miguel _!" She said fearfully, clinging to him even harder as he tried to shake her off. "You _can't _ ! If you don't get a blessing by sunrise--!" Her face went even paler, and she gulped back the words, saying instead, "You need to stay here and wait for the family! Besides, even if you _ do _ find De la Cruz before sunrise the blessing won't wor--"

_ "I've had just about enough of you!" _ Miguel hissed, finally pushing her off. "If it wasn't for you, none of us would even _ be _ in this situation! I don't want anything to do with this family! I told you that before!"

He swung his other leg over the ledge, and raised his hands up to grab the window, glaring back in at the shaking little girl.

"You stay here and wait for Mama Imelda to come and keep telling you what to do all your life if that's what you want. But I'm _ done _ . I've got my _ own _ life, and my _ own _ dreams, and I'm not giving them up for _ anything _! "

"_ Well go ahead and _ ** _go_ ** _ already then! _" Chole cried suddenly, reaching up to grab the handle of the window herself. The glow from the fire still burning below them only added to the blaze in her eyes as she faced Miguel, looking like she was ready to push him off the balcony herself. 

"And whatever happens to you _ it'll serve you **right** !" _

She slammed the window down so hard that some of the glass actually cracked. And in the second before he turned away, looking through the glass at the fuming Chole and tearful Socorro standing by her side, Miguel once more felt a momentary flash of familiarity...

But then he heard a cry from below, from somewhere around the corner, and the feeling was gone. He shook his head quickly to clear it, he needed to move fast. He needed to find De la Cruz.

As quickly as he could, he raced along the fire escape, until he reached a spot beyond the flames. In a moment, he was down the ladder and in the alley, vanishing into the darkness, never bothering to look back at the small face still pressed against the glass, watching him disappear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'd like to thank I'm-fairly-whitty for beta-reading this, and feel free to visit me over at tumblr at Ibrithir-was-here!


	3. Chapter 3

** _Marigold Grand Central Station Rooftop, The Land of the Dead_ **

“ _ Senora _ , you--you can’t just land your  _ alebrije _ \--you need a permit to park on the--”   


Imelda Rivera pushed passed the sputtering parking attendant with all the air of someone swatting absently at a small gnat, making straight for an equally nervous looking clerk who'd just come up from the building proper, several papers clutched tightly in her slightly trembling fingerbones.   


“ _ Where are my great-great grandchildren _ ?!” Imelda demanded, somehow managing to face down the clerk even though the other woman was several inches taller than her.

“They’re right downstairs  _ Senora _ ,” The clerk said quickly, before taking a small gulp and attempting to back up her fellow employee by saying,“But for now if you’d just move your  _ aleb _ r--”

“Once my family is safely back home _ then _ maybe I’ll think about moving Pepita!” Imelda said coldly, sweeping passed the clerk and towards the stairs. She was quickly followed by Oscar and Felipe, whose murmured attempts at an apology to the parking attendant where drowned out by Imelda's roar of: “ _ Now take me to my grandchildren at  _ ** _once_ ** _ !” _

“S _ -si Senora _ !” The clerk said hastily, hurrying to catch up with the woman striding down the hallway like she was leading an army assault.   


“We’ve put them down this way," The clerk said, gesturing them into an open elevator door, trying to maneuver the party through the hordes of skeletal workers rushing by, all who seemed to be in various states of utter panic.   


“We apologize for the state of things,” The clerk said sheepishly once the elevator had begun it's descent. Imelda's foot was tapping impatiently at the slowness of the machinery, which seemed to add to the clerk's unease. 

“As you can imagine, this whole incident has put us a bit on edge, and then with the trash fire just now, on top of the usual  _ Dia de Los Muertos _ crossings and--”   


"Yes yes," Imelda said impatiently, waving away the clerk's explanations. "How long will sending them back take?"

"N-not very long at all." The clerk said quickly, eager to offer the scowling woman some good news. "Blessings are very simple, and we still have plenty of time before sunrise."

The clerk smiled, somewhat awkwardly, but Imelda continued to glare. The clerk quickly cleared her throat and added,“I must say that you’ve made amazing time, coming all the way from the Santa Cecilia gate.”

“I was visiting my brother Felipe’s family when I received the notice.” Imelda said shortly, by way of explanation.

“It’s a long walk--” Felipe said quickly, eager to try and lighten some of the tension filling up the elevator.

“-- But a short flight.” Oscar finished, offering her a quick, awkward smile of his own.

“We know there’s probably more of us then you need--” Oscar began,   


“--But we wanted to see if we could help anyway.” Felipe finished.

“Actually, there  _ is _ something you can help with.” The clerk said, brightening suddenly, the stress slowly leaving her face as the elevator neared their floor. “We’ve already  _ had _ a Rivera ancestor check in, just a moment before you came, but if you could help us with--”

But whatever request the clerk was about to make was abruptly cut off by a hiss of surprise from Imelda, who suddenly went quite stiff, and then asked, in a dangerously cold voice:

“ _ What  _ ancestor?”

The clerk, who seemed aware that she'd said something foolish, but couldn't think what it have been, began rapidly fumbling with her notes, trying to find the name.

But just then, the elevator door opened, and the coldness in Imelda's gaze blazed into white hot fury when she saw the startled skeleton standing in the hallway.

“ _ You! _ ”

***

“We  _ have _ to go after Miguel." Socorro demanded, still straining to try and make out her brother's shape in the darkness.

She knew it was pointless though. It had been almost half an hour since he'd left. The fire below them had been mostly taken care of, but their officer had yet to return. Once he did, and found Miguel gone, she was sure that they'd be moved to another part of the building, and placed under much more watchful security. If they were going to do anything, they'd have to do it now.

“Hey, if that stuck up selfish brat wants to run the risk of getting stuck here after sunrise, I say let him go right ahead." Chole said hotly, glaring right back at Socorro from her seat on the officer's desk. "Besides, just  _ look _ at this place, chances are, if we went after him we'd get as lost as  _ he _ probably is right now, and then what?"

Socorro bit her lip. She knew that Chole was right, as she looked out over out at the shining, swelling, seemingly  _ endless _ expanse of twisting skyscrapers and zigzagging streets that lay beyond the station. It was the craziest, most mixed up city she'd ever seen. It would be so easy to get lost there, and maybe never find your way back.

But that was exactly why they needed to go after Miguel.

"But you're an  _ expert _ on tracking and stuff aren't you?" Socorro said quickly, coming over to Chole's side and looking up at her pleadingly. "You could find him in no time!"

" _ Niña _ , tracking butterflies and wild animals in the woods is completely different then tracking  _ people in a magic skeleton city _ ." Chole said with a huff, swinging her legs over to the other side of the desk so that her back was turned on Socorro. "Besides, I don't see why we can't just let the cops bring him back."

"Because Miguel won't  _ listen _ to the cops!" Socorro cried hotly, stomping around the desk to make Chole look at her. "He'll try to get them to let him go to De la Cruz for his blessing, and they'll probably let him because he's grown up and grown ups  _ always _ take each others sides. And then he'll get there and it  _ won't _ work and then he'll  _ die _ !"   


Chole actually seemed a little impressed by the heat in Socorro's outburst, or at least surprised by it, and Socorro felt a flicker of hope jump up inside of her. But a second later Chole was shrugging her shoulders and saying with her usual scowl, "I still don't see how any of this is my problem."

Socorro stamped her foot so hard that it actually rattled the cup of pencils on the desk. "You said you'd  _ help _ me!"

"I  _ said _ that I'd get you to your brother!" Chole shot back, looking like she wanted to start stomping herself. "And I  _ only _ agreed so I could keep you from getting run over or  _ worse _ when you were  _ stupid _ enough to try and get there yourself." She moved forward on the desk, bending over Socorro and fixing her with a stern look.

"You said that if I helped you find him, then you'd do what I said and go back home. Well we found him, he's gone, and now we're gonna do the go home part,  _ ok _ ?" She leaned back then, folding her arms in a very "discussion over" sort of way. "I'm not about to let a little kid like you run off and risk your life over that swaggering  _ peacock _ . And that's  _ final _ ."

Socorro looked up at Chole, feeling her fists trembling as she tried to think of something to say, some argument to make. It wasn't  _ fair _ . No one  _ ever _ listened to her. Just because she was a kid, because she was the  _ youngest _ , because stupid Miguel had to stupid run off and now everyone was afraid that if she so much as stepped outside the courtyard then she would run away too.

Well, Socorro thought with a small flash of guilt, she sort of  _ had _ run away. Kind of. But she was coming  _ back _ ! And she'd only run away because no one would listen to her about the letters, about how they could use them to bring Miguel back and  _ finally _ be a complete family again.

She'd thought that Chole had understood, when she'd found her on the roadside and Socorro had told her about bringing Miguel home, about how it would fix everything. How she would finally see Mama and Papa smile and laugh the way they did in the old home movies. How  _ Abuelita _ would be able to enjoy  _ Dia de Los Muertos _ again, like Benny and Manny told her she used to, instead of getting sad or angry.

Socorro  _ knew _ that she could fix her family, and she knew that Miguel was the key to doing it.

But no one ever listened to what she had to say. No, she'd had to take things into her own hands before, and she'd do so now. But she knew she couldn't do this particular adventure on her own. She'd need Chole's help, and she'd have to play dirty to get it.

And so, sinking down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and lowering her head into her folded arms--Socorro started to quietly sob.

"Oh come on--you're not really going to try  _ that _ old trick are you?" Chole said, and Socorro could practically  _ hear _ the woman rolling her eyes. But she only curled tighter into herself, and cried even more softly.

"I  _ know _ you're just doing this to make me feel guilty." Chole said dryly, though there was a little less heat to her words then before.   


Socorro sniffled,barely raising her head to wipe at her face with her sleeve.   


"It's  _ not _ going to work..."   


Socorro gave a small, teary hiccup.   


There was a series of low, strangled growls from Chole, followed by a long, self loathing sigh.   


" ** _Fine_ ** ...we'll go and  _ get _ him."

The consent sounded like it had barely made it unscathed through Chole's clenched teeth.

Socorro lifted her head, her eyes were still wet, but shining. And she tried hard to keep the smugness out of her face as Chole rolled her eyes at her and said, "You're a real  _ pill _ , you know that?"

"I like you too." Socorro said brightly, taking Chole's offered hand and clambering to her feet. "So how do we get out?"   


"Well we can't go out the window," Chole said pensively, looking around the room with the air of a lioness plotting its escape from the zoo. "The fire may be out but there's still a ton of officers down there,and  _ ours _ could be back any minute, especially if whatever that fight was we heard earlier has died down."

She looked back down at Socorro, biting her lip as she turned over her thoughts.

"We need to figure out our resources." She said finally, "What have you got in your pockets?"

_ Chole's _ pockets turned out to be a treasure trove of interesting things. In addition to her cellphone and Biosphere ID badge, she had a Multi tool, a walkie talkie, granola bars, something that almost looked like a miniature grappling gun, a small roll of gauze, and some old dog treats.

Next to that, Socorro felt almost ashamed in turning out her own pockets.  _ She _ only had some old leather scraps, a packet of half chewed gum, a torn piece of faded paper, and a tin of white  _ Rivera _ brand shoe polish.

None of it seemed very likely to be useful to Socorro, but Chole picked up the shoe polish and turned it over and over, a strange gleam coming into her eye as she did so.   


" _ Hmmm… _ ." Chole said thoughtfully, opening the tin and scooping out a dollop of the white polish onto her finger and then sliding it across her arm. "This could work." She said finally, the sly hint of a smile flashing across her face. "Yes, I think that's it."

Socorro watched in confused expectation as Chole set the tin down, and began wrapping the roll of gauze around her bare arms and knees.

"Wish I'd worn longer sleeves and pants…but maybe--"

"What are you doing?" Socorro asked, staring quizzically at Chole as the woman, now finished with the gauze, began readjusted her ponytail to cover her ears.

"Necessity is the mother of invention." Chole said simply, shooting Socorro towards a chair. "Put that hoodie on." She said, opening up the shoe polish tin once more.

Socorro pulled on Miguel's hoodie, quickly shoving the rest of her things back into her pockets as she did so. Then she took a seat, and in a moment was having the strange experience of getting shoe polish slathered all over her face.

"What exactly is this supposed to do?" Socorro couldn't help but ask, as Chole turned away from her and towards the window, now smearing her own face.

"If there's one thing I've learned from living out in the woods," Chole said briskly, sounding more upbeat then Socorro had heard her in--well, ever. "It's that there's nothing like some good old fashioned camouflage."

And she turned around to grin at Socorro, who's own mouth fell open in surprise, and then broke into a grin of her own, as she stared up at a picture perfect  _ calavera _ .   


"And now," Chole said, walking past Socorro and opening the door, revealing an unguarded hallway. "We go find your  _ idiot _ brother before he ends up  _ hopelessly _ lost."

  
  


** _*** Somewhere in the Land of the Dead***_ **

  
  


Miguel really really  _ really _ hated to admit it, but he was pretty sure he was hopelessly lost.   


No matter how many times he tried to get his bearings, no matter how far he walked, the gleaming white tower never seemed to get any  _ nearer _ . It was like this stupid city  _ wanted _ to keep him from reaching De la Cruz.   


And to make matters worse, this last attempt to follow an alley had brought him right back to the  _ police station _ .   


Miguel was almost ready to scream in total frustration. He hated this city, he hated this night, he hated this entire insane adventure that he'd been unwillingly pulled into.

"Stupid curse." He hissed, kicking at the alley wall before him. "Stupid skeletons, stupid holiday, stupid stupid  _ stupid-- _ "

But at that moment, the door nearest to him in the station opened, sending a long beam of light out into the darkness of the alley. Miguel ducked down quickly behind a pile of debris, watching the silhouettes of the skeletons as they stood in the illuminated doorway, their softly spoken words slowly drifting over to him.

"I'm so sorry about- _ -well-- _ all the er- _ -fuss _ ." One of the skeletons, a female officer Miguel thought, was saying to the other.

"I know that you were just trying to help but...well, maybe it's best to just let her have her way, hmm?"

"It...usually is." The other skeleton, a man this time, said with a small, rather sad attempt at a chuckle.

"Well, thanks for coming anyway. We'll make sure they all end up getting family blessings in the end, don't you worry."

"Are you sure there's  _ nothing _ else I can do to help?" The male skeleton asked hopefully, though in a way that sounded like he already knew the answer.

"Oh No. We'll have the Rivera blessing taken care of now--"

Miguel ducked down even farther when he heard that. His Rivera relatives were already inside the building? He had to get away from here  _ fast _ . He decided that he didn't care  _ how _ lost he got, as long as he was far away from even the  _ possibility _ of running into Mama Imelda.   


"And I'm sure the rest will start coming in soon enough. So there's really nothing you can do--" And here a tone of gentle teasing came into the officer's voice, "Unless you really have been telling the truth about knowing De la Cruz."

Miguel, who'd been attempting to army crawl away, stopped cold.

The male skeleton gave another small, sad laugh. "You know, out of all the crazy stuff I've tried to pull over the years, that's the one thing that's absolutely true, but nobody ever believes it."   


"Well, if you  _ do _ know him," The officer said, in a humoring sort of way, "why don't you see if you can get him to come down out of that ivory tower and send his family member on their way, hmm?  _ Feliz Día de Los Muertos señor _ ."   


And she shut the door, leaving the alley to fade back into darkness.

_ "Feliz Dia de Los Muertos." _ The male skeleton murmured, sounding like he was offering condolences. He stood for a moment on the steps, staring up at the building, and then slowly began to shuffle off into the darkness.

Miguel, still lying on the ground, could feel his heart ramming against the pavement, his breath caught in his throat.   


This could be his chance, his opportunity to find his way to his great great grandfather. Crazy a coincidence as it seemed, he couldn't just let this opportunity literally walk away from him. If that skeleton really did know De la Cruz, if he had  _ any _ chance of getting Miguel to him, then Miguel needed to seize this moment  _ now. _

" _ Perdón! _ " Miguel said quickly, jumping to his feet and brushing himself off as best he could as he started striding after the lanky skeleton. 

" _ Señor, señor  _ do you really know De la Cruz?!"   


The skeleton, to Miguel's relief, stopped in his tracks, his back still turned towards Miguel. He took a deep, shuddering sigh, as though this was a question that he  _ really _ didn't want to answer at this particular moment.

"Who wants to kno--" The skeleton began, turning around to face Miguel. But that was as far as he got. If the skeleton had still had skin, Miguel was sure that he would have jumped out of it. As it was, his eyes actually  _ did _ fall out of his sockets, and one of them rolled directly towards Miguel.

"Oh  _ Santo cielos-- _ " ًMiguel hissed, all but kicking the thing away from him and back towards the fumbling skeleton.   


Within seconds, the eyes were popped back in place and staring at Miguel with a mixture of alarm and awe.   


"Y-you're  _ alive _ !" The skeleton sputtered, looking Miguel up and down, taking in his now dirt covered designer jeans and once sparkling white jacket like he was seeing a ghost. Which Miguel thought was a little hypocritical given the circumstances.   


" _ Wait-- _ " The skeleton said, a touch of understanding coming into his voice. "You're one of those kids who got cursed tonight!"   


The skeleton took a step forward, and Miguel didn't like the determined look that was coming into his eyes. It sort of reminded him of the few times Marco would pull his big brother act and try and tell Miguel he was being stupid about something--or worse, it reminded him of his papa…

"I don't know what you're doing out here, but you need to get back into the station and get a blessing from your family before--"

"Look, Ernesto De la Cruz is my great great grandfather!" Miguel said as quickly as he could while still sounding somewhat dignified. He didn't let anyone alive tell him what to, life, and he wasn't about to be told off by some jangly skeleton who looked like he'd probably been looked down on by hobos either.   


In fact, the more Miguel looked him over, taking in his tattered clothes, his scruffy goatee, and brittle looking, bandaged bones, the less likely the skeleton's claim seemed.

But Miguel was running out of options. He at least had to  _ try _ this one, however unlikely it seemed.

"Where you telling the truth just now when you said you knew him?"   


The skeleton didn't answer, he just stared at Miguel, a strange,almost pained expression passing over his face. Finally, in a low, and  _ incredibly _ tired voice he said, "Yeah, yeah I knew him...More or less anyway." He held out a bony hand towards Miguel. "I'm Héctor. What did you say your name was  _ amigo _ ?"   


Miguel looked down at the hand offered him, pursed his lips, and shook it, barely keeping himself from shuddering as he did so.

"Miguel Cruz." He said, with just a  _ touch _ of pride as he stated his chosen last name. And despite his misgivings about Héctor, Miguel asked, "Can you get me to my great great grandfather?" 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And that’s the first chapter! Hope that you all like it, and thanks especially to im-fairly-whitty for beta-reading it and all her great suggestions!
> 
> Feel free to pop over to my tumblr @ibrithir-was-here for art work and extras


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